La Vie en Rose
by AnthroQueen
Summary: When you speak, angels sing from above. Everyday words seem to turn into love songs...


**Good morning friends! Happy November 6th! This is... Well, this is a mess, to be honest. I wanted to write something for Spoby's anniversary, as I had last year, but as usual it got away from me and it's now a super long piece of mindless fluff. But hey, who doesn't want mindless fluff on a day that's supposed to be happy, right? Right. So, regardless of whether they're together or not post time jump, regardless of the happenings of 6B, I wrote this and aggressively ignored canon, as I do. You know me well enough by now to know that I do that, right?**

 **There are so many things wrong with what's planned for 6B, but believe me you don't need me to go on a rant about it. Spoby not being together makes legitimately no logical sense, since nothing but -A kept them apart in the past. Toby staying in Rosewood makes no logical sense because the only reason he ever stayed in a town that made him its pariah was for Spencer, so if she's gone, then why would he stay? And Spencer going to Georgetown makes no sense because Georgetown sucks. Okay, sorry, that's a personal bias. But I can't support the decision to go to Georgetown. I went to Syracuse and if you know anything about college basketball, you'd know we're HUGE rivals. Seriously, what's a Hoya? It's 10:19 and Georgetown still sucks.**

 **Anyway. Let me just say that I bypassed sleep to write this. I bypassed meals to write this. I woke up early this morning to finish this. So hopefully, even if you hate it, you can appreciate the effort I put into it LOL. There's nothing that makes me angrier, right now, than the thought of sitting down and watching 6B, so I really just wanted to write something special for the occasion. Because they can take Spoby away from us, but you know what they can't do? They can't ruin the sanctity of November 6th. So have a lovely day, friends, and maybe you'll be kind enough to leave me some feedback? You don't have to but it's greatly appreciated. I love you all. Stay strong. We're all in this together, wildcats. :)**

* * *

La Vie en Rose

 _What are you wearing right now?_

Her phone buzzes in the pocket of her jeans, vibrating against her leg, and she slowly slips it from its confines to glance at the partially illuminated screen. An amused smile paints itself across her lips and she contemplates answering. She wouldn't hesitate if she were in a lecture hall, but it's her senior PR Capstone and it's just her and twelve other people listening to their professor drone on about diverse and challenging global environments. She should probably be taking notes on this; this class, while boring, is a requirement for her major and if she doesn't pass, she isn't graduating in May, and that would certainly mess up The Plan. Spencer had come up with The Plan in her very first week here at Georgetown and it left very little room for straying. It's why her schedule is always packed to the brim with classes and extracurricular meetings and shifts at the local university bookstore; everything leads to something else, everything has a place and a part in The Plan. Including this senior Capstone, which is boring as hell, but unfortunately necessary. But she's sitting at the far end of the round table today and she can probably get away with it.

 _I can't do this right now. I'm in class._

 _I know. Never stopped you before. You didn't answer my question._

She supposes she wouldn't be so insistent upon The Plan if she hadn't gone through what she had in high school. Her life from an outsider's standpoint looks like a complicated plot to a psychological thriller and things that might frighten normal people- anonymous stalkers, dead bodies, kidnappings- don't seem to bother her, anymore. She's been so desensitized by what's happened, robbed of an innocent, normal childhood, that now, having the chance to actually take the reins of her own life again has given her magnificent power. For years and years, any plans she'd made would have been thwarted by –A, but now… Well. It's been years and her phone remains silent. The torment is over and they're all free to live normal, albeit drastically changed, lives. And so, she tearfully parts ways with her best friends and quotes Winnie the Pooh instead of old literature, because there truly is no scholar on Earth that understands close friendship like that silly old bear. She watches as the other four girls depart in separate directions and Rosewood disappears in her rearview mirror like a memory she'd care to forget.

 _Nothing._

And it turns out, Washington D.C. is overwhelming as hell and college is fucking hard. She burns herself out in the first two weeks trying to do it all; taking eighteen credits to truly experience it all, going to club meetings for things she isn't even interested in just to seem well rounded, and partying on weekdays with her roommates even though she has eight a.m. classes the very next morning. These are of course classic freshmen mistakes and she learns the hard way, as all first-years must. But that's when she concocts The Plan; her professors are the most intelligent people she's ever met and there are so many opportunities to make a difference, here, that soon, she's considering a career path she's sure her parents and sister would crucify her for. She declares a double major in political science and public relations and, halfway through her sophomore year, she picks up a minor in communications, just for fun. Soon, The Plan becomes less of a plan and more of a course of action. She's fulfilling a bunch of dreams she never knew she had and it's good for her. She's happy.

 _Is it weird that I know you're lying, but I'm still kind of turned on?_

She bites her lip to keep from laughing and types back a response: _Let me rephrase. Nothing is what I hope to be wearing when I come over later._

 _That can be arranged_.

Of course, she could have accomplished absolutely none of these things without the loving support of her boyfriend. In the whirlwind that occurred at the end of her senior year of high school, with prom and CeCe's big reveal and the subsequent trial and incarceration that followed, there hadn't been much time for Spencer and Toby to discuss their upcoming separation. On the day of their commencement, with them being banned from all school activities, they'd been mailed their diplomas and a request to send back their caps and gowns and though it felt out of place, Toby had still insisted to take her out to dinner to celebrate. And that's of course when the conversation took place, for there they were, mere weeks from her upcoming departure, with no plans to ensure their relationship would remain intact. A lifetime ago, before the doubly humiliating lapse in judgment on her part, before the kidnapping that changed her life, before the end of the nightmare that had plagued her for years, they'd played Scrabble on her bed and she'd asked him to come with her, wherever she ended up. They'd never talked about it again, but that night, as she twirled pasta around her fork nervously, she realized she still felt the same. She couldn't imagine a life anywhere else without him and she couldn't bring herself to leave him behind in a town they both hated.

 _How?_

 _I thought you couldn't do this?_

 _I'm intrigued now, Cavanaugh. How?_

Luckily for her, however, she hadn't had the chance to be vulnerable. Toby put himself out there instead, congratulating her on her graduation, her accomplishments, her acceptance into Georgetown, and then drawing in a deep breath and insisting they talk about it. And he'd looked so heartbreakingly adorable in that very moment that she could've kissed him if she wasn't paralyzed in her spot by his selflessness. He'd started by telling her how proud he was of her, how much he loved her, how lucky he considered himself to be with her for so long and through so much, and then he'd brought up the distance. Long distance relationships were hard, he claimed, but he was committed if she was, because after everything they'd gone through, he couldn't imagine being without her. Unfortunately, he must've mistaken the look on _her_ face for one of hesitation and contemplation, because he quickly backpedaled and told her if she wanted time to explore all of her options, he wouldn't hold her back.

 _First I'd reach for your shirt, get it out of the way. Trail my fingers down your spine. I'd kiss your shoulders, your neck… Then I'd unhook your bra._

 _I'm not wearing one._

 _Fuck. Even better._

She'd had to stop him immediately from suggesting they break up and he'd looked incredibly relieved at the prospect. It was she who finally made the big move- she'd asked, point blank, if he'd like to come with her. Lost in her rambles, Spencer had covered every major point, from not wanting him to leave his home and job for her to her inability to stand not being able to see or touch him for months at a time should he stay behind. He'd taken everything she'd said into consideration as he always did and at the end, told her nothing in the world would make him happier than accompanying her on the next grand journey of their life together. The relief she'd felt at his decision had been indescribable, because a brand new school in a brand new city with brand new people were far too many new things to conquer and absorb without a touch of something familiar.

 _And then?_

 _And then I'd unbuckle your jeans. Slip them down your legs. I'd kiss down your neck, your chest, and your stomach as I reached for your underwear and took them off too. And you'd be completely naked._

 _At this point, we better both be completely naked_.

"Miss Hastings? What are your thoughts on the intercourse?"

Startled, Spencer glances up, her eyes wide and cheeks flushing crimson. "The what?"

"The intercourse between Mayer and Hart from our reading?" Her professor addresses. "You've been noticeably absent from today's discussion and I'd like to get a sense of where your head's at."

 _No, believe me, you wouldn't._ "Oh, well, um… I thought Mayer was making an excellent point when he brought up the intriguing duality of race and gender in the media. See, Hart would like us to believe that issues of discrimination are strictly in the past, but when looking at all the examples that Mayer's presented that clearly prove the opposite, it's hard to take his side."

"Interesting," Her professor nods. "And how do you think this presents a problem in the managerial process of planning and decision making?"

"Well…" She trails off and says, "I hadn't quite figured out a solution to that yet, Professor."

He chuckles. "Welcome to corporate America."

Class is dismissed moments later after their next assignment is doled out and Spencer hastily copies it down and yanks on her pea coat, heading for the door. It's mid-autumn and the campus is just stretching its legs to prepare for the upcoming chill of winter. Red and orange and golden brown leaves are falling from trees as Spencer makes her way to her car, shivering just a bit in the chilly November air. She tosses her books and purse onto her passenger seat and heads in the direction of Toby's apartment. It had been something they'd argued about for weeks before their collective move D.C.; whether or not to move in together. She'd been for it, in an effort to save money and spend even more time together, and he'd been against it, wanting her to have the full college experience and not get entirely distracted by him in the way she always got. Now, four years later and in her senior year, she's glad her boyfriend had the sense she didn't have, back then. She can't imagine it any other way.

As she's walking up the stairs to his third story apartment, she receives a text from the man in question. _I'm ready. Are you coming?_

 _About to be_ , She texts back and brainy, prudish Spencer of many years ago is rolling in her grave, somewhere. _Speak of the Devil and she doth appear_.

He yanks open the door and grins upon the sight of her. "I wouldn't exactly call you the Devil."

She grins, too. "Wait until you see what I've got in store for you."

Attaching their lips instantly, she allows herself to relish in the comforting feeling of finally being in his arms for just a moment before he reluctantly takes a step back. Spencer's eyes flutter open and when they do, she notes the table's set for two and there are candles and flowers and the entire room is bathed in dim mood lighting. She gasps and emits, "Oh my God."

"Happy anniversary," Toby says after a beat and he can't contain the giddy smile on his face.

She meets his eyes and asks, "You did all of this for me?"

"Of course," He nods. "We're celebrating, Spence. It's a big one. Five years today."

"I remember," She says and pulls him in for another loving kiss. "I love you so much."

"Yeah?" Toby teases, his hands already at the waistband of her jeans. "How much?"

"How about we find your bedroom," Spencer suggests, her fingers finding their way up his abdomen. "And I'll show you?"

* * *

Toby's breathing is still entirely labored and a thick sheen of sweat bathes his torso, but as he glances to his side, the blissful smile on his girlfriend's face tells him this is exactly what she'd been aiming for. Five years with this incredible girl and he's wondering where they all went, how time had possibly moved that quickly, and how soon until he can ask if she'll stay his forever. He runs a hand through his damp and matted hair as she rolls over her side and connects their lips once more, kissing him languidly as he wonders if she's trying to kill him. He nuzzles their noses together when they're through and she rests her chin on his chest, absentmindedly drawing lazy patterns on the contours of his abdomen.

"What are you thinking about?" She then asks and he gives her a sloppy grin.

"You," He tells her honestly. "How much I love you. How glad I am that you're here. How you wore me out."

She laughs and falls back against the pillow. "Tobes, I'm just getting started."

"Well, before we have another round, I'm thinking we fuel up on some dinner," Toby suggests. "And gift-giving."

"Yours is in my bag," She says and then asks, "Wait, dinner? You made dinner too?"

"Well, 'made' is a bit of an overstatement."

"What do you mean?"

"If by 'made' you mean ordered takeout and then put onto actual plates instead of paper ones," Toby elaborates. "Then yes, I made dinner."

Spencer chuckles and sits. "Alright then, it sounds delicious. Let's eat."

He watches as she reaches for the shirt he'd most recently been wearing and slips it over her head in the most natural of ways. Toby grins and slips on a pair of boxers and a spare t-shirt he'd found lying around; one that had somehow been spared a new life in Spencer's closet. He relights the candles, which had dripped molten wax across his new tablecloth in their absence, and then presents her with the meal he'd so carefully scooped from Styrofoam containers not moments ago. She pours them each a glass of red wine, which they only drink on special occasions on account of how terrible it tastes. Soon, they're laughing over identical plates of penne alla vodka and Toby has never seen Spencer so happy. This move has been good for her; college has been good for her. And he wishes it wasn't so out of place to see Spencer happy, but he's realizing, now, that he started dating her when her life was in shambles and though they had instances where things were alright, as a whole, the beginning of their relationship found Spencer in the toughest part of her life. But she'd persevered and made it through to the other side and he'd been with her every step of the way.

"This is delicious," Spencer compliments, taking a moment to sip at her wine. "Your not-homemade pasta is to die for."

"Hey, I was busy preparing for tonight," Toby tells her. "I didn't have time to cook, too."

"And everything looks amazing," She says. "I am the luckiest girl alive."

"About to get luckier," Toby grins and her eyes widen with surprise.

"Again?" Spencer implores. "I thought you said you were worn out."

"That's not what I meant. Get your mind out of the gutter, Hastings," He teases and stands, in search of something from the fridge. "I figured since it was a special occasion, we might as well indulge."

She gasps. "That is _not_ what I think it is."

"It's exactly what you think it is."

"A chocolate cake from Honey Bunches Bakery?"

"A chocolate cake from Honey Bunches Bakery," He confirms and lifts the top off of the box. "Personalized just for us and everything."

"Aw, 'Happy 5th Anniversary Specter and Tony'," She reads and then bursts into a fit of hysterical laughter. "Oh my God."

"Wait, what?" Toby exclaims, his complacent visage dropping. "Is that what it says?"

She laughs, tears streaming down her cheeks, and nods as he comes beside her and glares at the icing. "What the hell? I told them specifically what to write! I wrote it down!"

"Tony, relax," She teases. "It's not that big of a deal."

"It is. They ruined our cake," Toby frowns. "Is my handwriting really that bad?"

"No. You have oddly beautiful handwriting," Spencer tells him. "Someone at the bakery just thought that it was the fifth anniversary for the love interest from _West Side Story_ and a ghost. Which is strange, actually, because _you'd_ be the dead one."

"Oh well," Toby sighs. "I guess it'll still taste good."

"I'm sure it's fantastic," Spencer assures him. "It always is."

And moments later, when they're splitting a piece, he asks, "So, Specter- full review?"

"I'm not gonna lie to you, Tony," She plays along. "There is a little _too_ much icing. Maybe if they'd left off the names entirely, it would be perfect. But the cake itself is moist and delicious, as always."

Toby grins. "I sure know how to pick 'em."

She chuckles. "You certainly do."

When they've finished their dessert, they load the dishwasher and retreat to his couch, lounging comfortably and happy just to be in the presence of one another. He kisses her cheek and asks, softly, "Are you ready for your present, now?"

"Wait, me first," Spencer shakes her head and hops up suddenly, crossing the room to find the bag she'd dropped hours ago. "It's kind of unfinished but when you see it, you'll understand because… Well, _we're_ unfinished."

Toby nods as she sits beside him again. "Okay."

"So I looked it up and it turns out that the traditional gift for a fifth anniversary is wood," Spencer says. "That's totally ridiculous, because what was I supposed to do with that? But I wanted to make it work so… I audited an art class this semester and let me tell you, it's a good thing I audited it, because I'm pretty sure if I was ever _actually_ taking it, I would fail miserably."

"Wait a minute," Toby stops her. "You're auditing a class on top of the nineteen credits you're already taking?"

She shrugs nonchalantly. "Yeah."

"You're amazing," He shakes his head in disbelief. "Go on."

"Anyway, here it is," Spencer exhales nervously and hands it over. "Just don't laugh at me, please."

Toby carefully unwraps the gift and finds a homemade photo frame inside. Around the edges of the frame, she'd handpicked Scrabble tiles to spell out a message- _Every love story is beautiful, but ours is my favorite_. Behind the glass is a beautifully carved piece of wood with four dates and extra room on the bottom. There's room for a 5x7 photo in the corner and she's left this empty. He's utterly speechless, but somehow finds the words to say, "Why would you ever think I would laugh at you for this? It's amazing."

"Because I'm so obviously an amateur," Spencer shrugs. "Being artsy is your thing. I'm not good at it."

He disagrees and kisses her to prove it. "This is beautiful. It's so thoughtful. I love it."

She smiles a bit and asks, "Can you guess what the dates are?"

"The first one's easy," Toby nods. "Our first kiss."

"Yes," She grins. "And the second one?"

He thinks just a moment before saying, "Our first 'I love you'."

"Yes," She confirms again. "What about the third? This one's a bit trickier."

Toby's quiet a beat before asking, "Our first date?"

"Yeah!" Spencer exclaims. "And finally?"

"Our first time," Toby smiles and she nods, kissing him.

"They're all of our important firsts," She informs him. "I left some space at the bottom so we could fill in others as they happen. Like, I don't know, our first place together."

"Our first trip," Toby adds and she nods.

"Things like that," She agrees. "And I didn't put a photo in because… Don't laugh at me."

"Promise."

"I wasn't willing to part with any of the ones I have," She tells him, a bit embarrassed, and his heart flutters in his chest. God, he's so in love with this girl. "But I figure we can take one, maybe at the ski resort over Christmas?"

"Yeah. That sounds good," Toby nods and then sets his gift aside, taking both her hands in his. "Thank you. Really. It's amazing and so are you."

"You're welcome," She says and they indulge in another kiss.

"My turn?" Toby then asks and she nods giddily.

"Your turn!"

"Okay, so we think alike," Toby prefaces, holding the gift behind his back. "I looked it up, too, and I wracked my brain trying to think of how to make this whole wood thing work."

"We really are the same person, sometimes," Spencer comments and her boyfriend chuckles.

"Tell me about it," Toby says. "Anyway, I made this a few days ago and I hope you don't hate it."

"Not likely," Spencer assures him as he presents her with a moderately sized box.

Carefully, she tears away the tissue paper and is left holding an expertly crafted mahogany box, silky smooth to the touch, a heart carved into the top. She runs her fingers over the top, entranced, and says, "This is gorgeous. You made this?"

"Yeah, but open it," Toby insists. "There's more inside."

She does as he's asked and when she pops the top, there's a message etched on the inside. _S, 5 years down, forever to go. I love you so much. –T_. He's rendered her speechless and he takes this as a personal victory. "Toby…"

"Now, I hate to break it to you," He continues. "But we're going to have to find somewhere else to take that picture for my new frame."

She glances up, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, we're not going to that ski chalet with your parents and sister for Christmas," Toby explicates. "I'm sorry. I know you really wanted to-"

"Yeah, right," She smirks. "I was dreading it. How'd you get out of it?"

Toby grins. "I made other arrangements."

At her bemused look, he nods towards the box again and when she reaches inside, she produces plane tickets. He waits for her to read the destination and when she does, a hand clasps to her mouth. "Oh my God."

"Think we'll be able to find a good spot for a photo there?"

"We're going to Paris for Christmas?" She exclaims. "You didn't. This isn't real."

"It's very real," Toby assures her. "Pack your things, _mon amour_. We're going to the city of love."

She scrambles across the couch and onto his lap, hugging him so fiercely he's sure he'll suffocate. He holds onto her just as tightly and presses a kiss into her hair. "I take it you're excited."

"I don't even know what to say to you right now," She murmurs, her face pressed into his neck. "How? Why? What did I do to deserve this or you?"

"Online. You've been super busy and stressed lately and you needed a break," Toby answers. "And you were just you. You were wonderfully you and I love you so much. I wanted to treat you to something nice."

" _Je t'aime_ ," She professes. "I love you and I have no idea how I'm going to repay you for this."

"That won't be necessary," He disagrees. "Just have a good time and that's payment enough."

Spencer pulls back to look him in the eye. "Hell yes. We're going to have the _best_ time. I can't wait!"

"I'm still working on that other promise; taking you to London and never coming back?" Toby refreshes her memory. "But I figure this is a start."

Spencer pulls his mouth to hers, their tongues battling like magnets, before pulling back to ask, "Still worn out?"

"You know what? I'm feeling miraculously energized," Toby decides and stands, taking a squealing Spencer with him. "I'm the luckiest guy alive."

Spencer grins lasciviously. "About to get luckier."

* * *

"You're lost."

"I am not lost. I know exactly where we are."

"Which is?"

"Next to that boutique and across from that café."

"You're lost!"

"I prefer the term _whereabouts unknown_."

"Oh my God."

She shivers and steps closer to him, partly for his body heat and partly to peer down at the map he's holding open and desperately trying to connect it to where they are. They've been in Paris exactly two days and they're enjoying themselves greatly; discovering a place unknown to both of them has been a great adventure. December in Paris is wet and cold, but today is the warmest it's been since they'd arrived and they decided to go out for a walk, wander the streets and get lost in the allure of the city. They just hadn't expected to _actually_ get lost. Toby glances up and Spencer watches as he takes in the street sign they're standing under in an attempt to get some semblance of where they are. For some reason, it makes her laugh. Honestly, she probably should have seen this coming.

Finally, he crumples the map and stuffs it into his pocket. "This is ridiculous. We look like tourists."

"We _are_ tourists," Spencer points out but Toby shrugs.

"We don't have to flaunt it," He says. "Want to take the Metro?"

"What is that going to solve?"

"I don't know," Toby shrugs. "We'll get off the first exit and hope for the best."

"Okay," Spencer says warily and he smirks.

"Look, I know you, and I know you would never dream of wandering aimlessly through a foreign city," Toby tells her. "But let's just take advantage of our free day. Let's explore. I'm not going to get you axe murdered, I promise."

She chuckles and agrees. "Okay, fine. Let's go explore."

He takes her hand and they stroll down the street in search of the first Metro station. And it's underground, sure, but it's much nicer, much cleaner, than the one she's used to using in D.C. She can't say she's surprised; she'd felt the same way about London during her brief visit. It seemed the European cities held their standards in higher regards than America did and though Spencer's sure there's got to be at least one part of the city that's not so nice, they have yet to discover it. Instead, they push through the turnstiles, step onto the Metro and they're off, zooming deep below the Parisian streets, hearts racing with adventure. Toby's right; any other time, any other place, she would be panicking right about now. After all, being lost in a foreign city is just about one of her worst nightmares, now that she isn't fearing for her life or the lives of her loved ones all the time. But she's with him and strangely, it doesn't bother her as much as it might if she were alone. After all this time, when she's with him, she still feels incredibly safe.

"All right, see, this looks familiar," Toby says the minute they climb the steps back towards the surface of the street.

"Does it?" Spencer asks him. "Because I still have no idea where we are."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure if we take that street over there it'll lead to our hotel," He tells her and then nods towards the other side of the sidewalk. "And there's the _Pret a Manger_ we had breakfast in the first day."

"To be fair, there's a _Pret_ on every street corner," Spencer points out. "But who knows? You might be right. Where to next?"

"I don't know," Toby shrugs. "Are you hungry?"

"I don't know. It's a little early for dinner, but maybe we could snack?" She suggests and Toby agrees as they set off down the street. He takes her hand again and she comments, "Your hands are _freezing_. Do you want to borrow my gloves?"

"I'm fine," He shakes his head. "It's not as bad as it feels."

"Okay that's cool, but you're not getting hypothermia on my watch," Spencer says, slipping off her wool mittens and handing them to him. "Here- I even kept them warm for you."

Toby gives in and slips them onto his hands. "If you need them back, just let me know."

"I'll be alright," She insists and asks, "But isn't that better?"

He nods. "But what about you?"

"Don't worry about me," She grins. "I've got my love to keep me warm."

He chuckles and wraps an arm around her waist, kissing her cheek. "That you do."

They pass by a park, where a bunch of bundled up carolers are singing in front of a small crowd, a beautifully decorated tree behind them. Spencer grins and points them out. "Look! That's so nice!"

"What are they singing?"

It takes her a moment, but she answers, " _Ça commence à beaucoup ressembler à Noel_. It's Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas."

"Ah," Toby nods. "See, my French is really rusty."

"That's alright," She assures him. "We'll have to work on that."

The sun peeks out from behind fluffy clouds and brings a warmth to the afternoon that melts the ice on the sidewalks. As they're strolling down the street, something catches Spencer's eye and she gasps excitedly. "Oh my God. Can we _please_ go to high tea? That sounds so fancy and so European. I _must_ be a part of it."

Toby chuckles and nods his agreement. "Yeah, let's go."

They're seated at a table on the second floor, in front of a great glass window that overlooks the street and oblivious pedestrians below. A kind older woman brings them a pot of tea and tiered platter of elegant sweet treats to munch on and then they're mostly left alone. Spencer peels off her coat and scarf and sinks into the warmth of the cozy room, pouring herself a cup of tea and stirring in just a touch of sugar and honey. The cup warms her chilled hands just as the tea warms her soul and she hasn't felt this comfortable, this at peace, in weeks. Glancing over at Toby, who's absentmindedly stirring his tea and peering out their second story window, she finds herself smiling a slow, saccharine smile just upon the sight of him. He knew. He knew she needed this trip, how busy she's been, how stressed, and without any prodding at all, without any indication, he hadn't hesitated to plan it for her. And perhaps she should be shocked, but she isn't, not in the slightest, over how well he knows her, how in tune with her needs he is. If there's one person who knows her better than anyone- hell, better than she knows herself- it's Toby Cavanaugh.

He catches her staring not moments later and asks, "Penny for your thoughts?"

She shrugs. "I was just thinking about you."

"Me?" His eyes widen with surprise. "You don't have to think about me. I'm here with you."

"I know. And you always have been," Spencer says. "Which, actually… I kind of wanted to talk about that."

His eyes darken with concern. "Okay."

"No, it's not… It's not anything bad, I promise," She assures him, taking one of his hands in both of her own. "It's just… Do you remember sophomore year when Hanna and Caleb broke up?"

"Yeah," Toby nods. "He called me and I got an earful."

"She went and studied abroad in Spain second semester and had fling after fling with those Spanish guys?" Spencer reminds him. "But by the time she got back-"

"Whoa, I never heard that," Toby stops her. "She did?"

"Yeah," Spencer nods. "You probably only got Caleb's version."

"That I did."

"Anyway," She goes on. "By the time she got back, she realized it was because she was miserable without him and they were back together by the end of the summer and they've been inseparable ever since."

"Yeah, they have."

"And remember Aria?" Spencer says next. "How she told Ezra she didn't want him to follow her to college, but he surprised her and went anyway and then it blew up in their faces?"

"Yeah," Toby nods again. "That was _not_ pretty."

"And who even knows what Emily's doing, anymore," Spencer sighs. "Her love life's always been a quagmire."

"It has," Toby agrees and then asks, "Why are you giving me a rundown of your friends' romantic histories?"

"Because," Spencer says. "You and I have the been the only ones to remain fully intact since we left Rosewood."

"Oh yeah," Toby realizes. "I guess we have."

"And I'm not saying this to brag or anything, I'm just saying it because it's the truth," Spencer states. "And I'm afraid because we haven't had a falling out and everyone else has that… That we're next."

"Why would we be next?"

"I should've told you this when I first found out," Spencer sighs and confesses. "I'm not going to be leaving D.C. after graduation in May. I applied for about a dozen internships in September and the one I really wanted… Well I found out sixteen thousand people applied and they only chose four. And I was one of them."

"You got it?" Toby's eyes widen. "You got the Harrison-Whitman internship?"

"Yeah," Spencer nods. "We'll be running campaigns all over the state and I'm sure I won't be involved in anything. I'll probably just be coffee deliverer, or something, but it could turn into something real down the road and… I don't know. I found out a few weeks ago. I should've told you."

"Spence, that's fantastic. Congratulations!" He exclaims proudly and she thanks him before he asks, "Wait… Why would you think this would be the end of us?"

"I'm not saying the end, I'm just saying…" She trails off, trying to find the words to explain. "When you moved to D.C. with me, it was supposed to be a temporary thing while I went to college and we figured out what we were going to do with our lives. But now it's starting to get permanent and… Well, I've definitely held you back long enough. And I'm sorry for bringing this up now, while we're on this amazing trip, but I can't… I can't just ignore it. You know me. And so I don't really know what you want to do with that information, but I'll understand if you need to take some time with it or if you need to get back to your own life, you know? It's just… It's been eating me alive."

"Spencer," Toby shakes his head. "There are so many things wrong with what you just said."

She chuckles. "There are?"

"Of course," He states. "Look, you might've seen our move as a temporary thing, but I was pretty much sold from day one. I don't have a life to go back to, Spencer. _You're_ my life. And as long as we're together, I really don't give a damn where we live, whether it's D.C. or New York or London. As long as it's not Rosewood; we're done there, right?"

"Absolutely," She nods. "We're never going back there."

"So maybe time and distance were deciding factors in your friends' relationships, but we're not like them. We never have been," Toby tells her honestly. "I'm going to be there supporting you every step of the way. This is a great opportunity for you. It fits nicely in The Plan."

Spencer smiles warmly and tells him, "You fit nicely in The Plan too, you know."

"Do I?"

"Oh yeah," She nods. "You have your very own section. See, I like what I do, but not as much as I like being with you."

"Well, that's good to hear."

"Believe me, I promised myself two things a long time ago," Spencer informs him. "One- that I would never, _ever_ , become a lawyer. And two- that I would never put my career before the poor sucker who got stuck with me."

Toby grins. "That lucky sucker."

Spencer chuckles, joking, "He doesn't know how good he has it."

"I think he does," Toby says and then probes, "So it's settled, then? We're good?"

"We're definitely good."

"Okay, then," Toby nods and hands her a macaroon. "Try the green ones. They're amazing."

After tea, they find their way back to the hotel for a little siesta and to ready themselves for their Christmas dinner. As Spencer's carefully stepping into her little black dress, pulling on silk stockings, accessorizing and applying makeup expertly, she thinks about this afternoon and just how incredibly lucky she is to have someone like Toby. It's her absolute worst nightmare to lose him and go through what Hanna had during her and Caleb's six-month silence, but if being with Toby's taught her anything in these past five years, it's that love will always prevail. She supposes it had with Hanna and Caleb too, but in their case, they'd had to separate to see it and as for her and Toby, staying together worked just as well. In high school, she used to dream of making it out alive, of eluding their psycho-stalker, of solving the mystery and coming out victorious before the next loved one of hers met a terrible end. But now? Now that the nightmare has passed? Now, she dreams of a house with a tire swing in front, an intimate ceremony with two sparkling rings and a newborn with a six-pack. She's been lucky enough to keep Toby through all of this and, if she plays her cards just right, she may get to keep him for the rest of her life.

Toby's been super secretive about their dinner all day and she can't seem to shake even the slightest of hints out of him. When she steps out of the bathroom, fully ready, his jaw drops to the floor and she thinks maybe she can use this to her advantage and prod some details from him. She can't. His hands are all over her and he kisses her deeply, smudging her makeup, but that's as far as it gets. Sighing, she straightens his tie and they head out together; she'll just have to leave it as a surprise. They take a white-knuckle cab ride to a restaurant overlooking the Seine River, and its twinkling lights and intimate dining settings make Spencer gasp excitedly. But as she turns to gauge Toby's reaction, his attention is elsewhere. She shoots him a look and he grins right back. There's something else up his sleeve; honestly, she should be expecting this, by now.

"This isn't where we're having dinner," He tells her, nodding towards the restaurant and instead turning around so they're facing the river.

"It's not?"

"No," He says and points to a glittering cruise pulling up to the dock. "But that is."

"We're having dinner on the water?" Spencer exclaims. "On a boat?"

"It's a dinner cruise," He confirms and takes her hand. "It's going to take us up and down the length of the river, you know, kind of like sight-seeing."

She shakes her head. "I know I shouldn't be shocked by the extent of how amazing you are, but I still am."

Toby chuckles. "Come on."

It's just as intimate as the restaurant had looked; there are about a dozen or so tables located just against the rail, leaving the center floor clear of everything save for a jazz band. A soft horn indicates their departure and a waiter comes by, takes their order and pours them each a matching glass of champagne. The boat's string of lights reflect off of the glittering water and Paris at night is twice as beautiful as it is during daylight hours, rendering what she'd thought to be impossible actually seemingly accurate. After a light amuse-bouche, Spencer sips at her champagne and thinks life honestly can't get any better than this. The jazz band plays a soft, soothing tune and, feeling spontaneous, Spencer hops to her feet, extending a hand towards her boyfriend.

"Dance with me."

"Dance with you?" He questions. "I thought we established at prom that I am a horrible dancer."

"You're not as bad as you think you are," Spencer insists. "Come on. Up."

He does as she's asked and within moments, they're swaying together in the center of the floor, Paris floating by on either side of them. Noticing their live audience, the jazz band springs into action with a classic. " _Hold me close and hold me fast, this magic spell you cast, this is la vie en rose…_ "

"There is absolutely no way I am _ever_ going to be able to repay you for how amazing this trip has been," Spencer tells him. "Like, ever."

"I already told you," Toby says, his hands around her waist. "You don't have to do that. I wanted to do something nice for you. That's it. I'm not looking for retribution."

" _When you kiss me, heaven sighs. And though I close my eyes, I see la vie en rose…_ "

"I'm serious though," Spencer insists. "No one has ever done anything like this for me before."

"Well," Toby says. "There's a first for everything."

" _When you press me to your heart, I'm in a world apart. A world where roses bloom…_ "

"I never want this to end," Spencer sighs complacently. "Can we just stay forever?"

"Baby steps, _ma cherie_ ," Toby replies. "Baby steps."

" _And when you speak, angels sing from above. Everyday words seem to turn into love songs…_ "

"I love you so much," Spencer professes. "And it might not be November anymore, but this is the best anniversary we've ever had."

"I love you, too," Toby grins. "And I promise to make them better and better each year."

" _Give your heart and soul to me, and life will always be… La vie en rose…_ "

Toby twirls her in circles, dips down for a kiss, and Spencer wishes hard for the night to last forever.

* * *

He's not going to lie; this place looks really, _really_ sketchy from the outside. It's in the middle of nowhere, in the corner of two streets that seemingly just end, and there's virtually no one going near it. Graffiti colors the walls on either side of the little shop and Toby swears the chain link fence on the one side has barbed wire on the top. Spencer swears it isn't so he trusts her judgment. It's New Year's Eve and they'd spent the last day of the year visiting all the touristy locations they could before they depart for America the very next morning. But after the exhausting tours of Versailles, the Louvre, Notre Dame and the various museums, they were growing a little weary. Toby had asked what she'd like to do next and her answer had been to find some place where they could debrief and unwind.

And then they'd turned the corner and found Shakespeare and Co. Antiquarian Books.

If there's one thing that makes Spencer just as happy, if not happier, than he does, it's getting lost in a good book. She'd looked so incredibly thrilled at the prospect of choosing a new literary adventure that the look on her face alone would have made this entire trip utterly worth it. They'd pushed open the giant wooden doors and immediately were greeted by a handful of staff members, eager to point them in the direction of fiction and nonfiction, ancient and brand new novels alike. The entire shop smelled of a thrilling combination of intrigue, wonder and parchment and, glancing to his left, Toby had grinned upon the sight of Spencer, like a giddy schoolgirl, beside him. Together, they'd explored aisle after aisle, their stack of books growing and growing until soon, it easily towered over both of them. In fact, they were so content, they didn't even have to go home with anything. Easily, they could stay here and read through the stack, the rest of their plans be damned.

And so, that's where they are, now. Not only does this antique little bookshop offer every book in every condition under the sun- from brand new, never been opened, to cover torn off, pages literally falling out from their bindings- it also offers readers an upstairs area with couches and armchairs in which to read their findings. Toby had crawled onto a rather cozy-looking couch, feet propped up on an ottoman in front of him and Spencer had pretty much crawled onto him; she's stretched out across the length of the couch, her book propped on her stomach, her head in his lap. He's lost in the story of _L_ ' _Attrape_ - _cœurs_ _,_ for old time's sake, while Spencer's deeply engrossed in a French translation of _Hamlet_ and it's the little things, really, that fill his heart with joy.

"Wow," Toby remarks after a beat. "Even in French, Holden Caulfield just gets it, you know?"

"Why?" She glances up at him. "You can still relate to being an angst-filled teenager?"

"Not so much," He shakes his head. "But I know what he's going through."

"Please," Spencer disagrees. "If Holden went through half of what you did as a teenager, you'd be the one with the book, not him."

He chuckles. "How's Hamlet? Still full of murder?"

"Yeah, but you know what's weird?" Spencer implores. "Ophelia's not as much as a whiny bitch in French. I mean, girl needs to get it together."

"Spence, her fiancé's insane," Toby points out. "One day, he tells her he's in love with her and the next day, he tells her to join a convent."

"Right," She replies, sarcastic. "So that's a perfect reason to drown yourself, right?"

Grinning, Toby shakes his head. "You and your Shakespeare."

"Excuse you, I live for Shakespeare," She insists. "Have I ever told you about my goldfish, Puck and Tybalt?"

He smirks. "No."

"I was in sixth grade and I'd been begging my parents for a pet for like six years," Spencer explains. "They finally decide on goldfish because they're extremely low maintenance and require no effort at all. Well, they told me it was to learn responsibility, first, but I knew the real reason. Anyway, I named them Puck, after Midsummer Night's Dream and Tybalt from Romeo and Juliet. I fed them when I was supposed to and cleaned the fishbowl and everything… And then one day, it was just Puck. Tybalt was nowhere to be seen."

"Was he slain?" Toby teases. "Poetic justice, like in the play?"

"I have no idea," Spencer shrugs. "But Melissa told me she _swore_ she saw Puck eat Tybalt and it gave me nightmares for weeks. I'm pretty sure fish can't be cannibals, but I've never looked at goldfish the same way again."

Toby laughs and asks, "How is it that five years into this relationship, I'm still learning new things about you?"

Spencer grins. "Because I'm a real bag of tricks. You'll see."

Moments later she audibly gasps and Toby asks, "What?"

"Polonius just got stabbed through the curtain."

"You've read this a play a thousand times," He tells her. "You knew exactly what was going to happen to Polonius at the start of the scene!"

"Oh and so I suppose by that logic I shouldn't laugh when Gertrude drinks the poison designated for Hamlet?" She asks him. "Because I still do, every time. I swear, every woman in Shakespeare's plays is a dumbass."

"Not Lady Macbeth," Toby points out and Spencer nods.

"Fair point," She agrees. "And I guess not Beatrice, either. Or Viola."

"Did you choose anything other than Shakespeare, by the way?" Toby asks, peering over at her stack of books.

" _Is_ there literature other than Shakespeare?" Spencer teases right back and then grows just the tiniest bit defensive. "And yes, thank you very much, I have plenty of other things to read as well. Should I pack a few for the road?"

"I didn't expect you to leave an antique bookstore empty-handed."

"You know me so well," Spencer grins and sits up, stretching just a bit. "I really could sit here all day."

Toby grins and feels utterly placid and at peace. "Yeah. Me too."

The day and, coincidentally the year, begins to come to a close and on their way back to their hotel, it snows. Tiny flakes of white are flittering down all around them and Toby realizes the worst part of the year is coming; come tomorrow, it's all over. Their vacation, yes, but also the allure and majesty of the holidays; snowfall adds nothing but a sense of magic, now, but tomorrow will be January and when winter hits, it hits _hard_. Blizzards and ice storms and perpetual illnesses are on the way with February and March and he finds himself already praying for spring. But Spencer suggests they stop for coffee and as they continue down the streets, sipping one-handed, their other hands linked and swinging between them, he realizes something else. Being with her is like being on an eternal holiday, like the first day of spring after a long and icy winter, and when he looks at her, he sees nothing but beginnings.

After a quick break to warm up and rest a little, they're bundled up all over again and heading out for one last night on the town. They have dinner at a cute little bistro and toast the New Year before heading to one of their favorite sights in the world- the Eiffel Tower. And it's late and it's _freezing_ and people are starting to go home. They also have a seven-thirty flight the very next morning and should probably try and get the sleep they're going to lose on the plane and in the six-hour time difference. But they're not concerned with these things, now. They're huddled together, arms around one another to try and share body heat, and take in one last look of one of the most beautiful sights on the planet.

"Fifteen minutes," Spencer shivers, glancing at her watch. "What's your New Year's resolution?"

"I never make those," Toby shakes his head. "They're too impossible to follow through with."

"That's not true," Spencer shakes her head. "You just have to be strict with yourself. Put yourself on a regimen."

He smirks. "That doesn't sound fun at _all_."

"Okay, but resolutions _can_ be fun." She says. "Like… I hope to enrich my mind by reading one new book for every day of the year. Or, I hope to plan another trip for me and my awesome girlfriend that's just as amazing as this one."

He laughs. "I see your point."

"I guess it's my turn, though, to plan something, right?" She wonders and when he shrugs, she grows excitable. "Hey, you know what's coming up?"

"What?"

"Your birthday," She grins. "Oh my God. I've already got like a hundred ideas. I hope you're ready; it's going to be _quite_ the spectacle."

He grows weary at the thought and asks, "Should I be expecting a surprise party with like two hundred people?"

"Ew. No," She disagrees. "That doesn't sound like you at all."

A sigh of relief escapes his lips. She still knows him impossibly better than he ever could. "Well, whatever you decide, I'm sure I'll love it just as much as I love you."

She giggles and kisses him and a bell chimes, somewhere. Toby notes, "Ten minutes. You didn't tell me what _your_ resolution was."

"What makes you think that _I_ make them if you don't?"

"You're Spencer Hastings."

She laughs. "So?"

"So, that's the kind of thing that you do," Toby insists. "So out with it. What do you hope to achieve this year?"

Spencer considers the question, thinks long and hard, before answering, "I'd like to graduate in May, as expected, provided I pass this Capstone class that's _killing_ me."

"You will," He assures her. "I have no doubt in my mind you will."

"I'd like to start my internship and maybe build towards an actual career," Spencer continues. "Or at least get enough coffee for someone important that they recognize my ambition and drive and take me on full time."

Toby nods. "As great a start as any."

"I'd like to see the girls more often," Spencer sighs. "Because they're my best friends and I miss them _so_ much and I've only seen them a handful of times since we started school."

"I know they miss you just as much," Toby replies and then adds, "And this is much more than one resolution, I hope you realize that."

"Hey, I'm thorough," Spencer contends. "But if you'd like me to stop, I'll stop. It's too bad, though. I was just getting to the part about you."

"Me?"

"Yes, you," Spencer rolls her eyes. "I'd like to make more time for you and just, in general, be a better girlfriend. We've been really good with the open communication lately and no more secrets and… I'd like that to continue."

"You're already the best girlfriend anyone could ask for," Toby assures her. "I don't know how _anyone_ could be any better."

Their lips meet once more and the bell clangs and there are only five minutes left in the year. Spencer asks, "Hey, it's only, like, six o'clock back home. Does that mean we can predict the future?"

Toby chuckles. "Absolutely. We're going to be living in the New Year for six whole hours before they will. We'll be so wise."

"I wonder if it's possible to celebrate the New Year in every single time zone," Spencer says. "Like if you just kept traveling?"

"That would be _exhausting_ ," Toby comments. "And surely, you'd miss one or the other trying to cross oceans."

"That's true."

 _Dix! Neuf! Huit! Sept!_

"Oh, I didn't realize it was time already," Spencer exclaims, glancing at her watch. "I think the cold is hindering my brain's activity."

"The second the New Year hits, we're getting out of here," Toby decides. "It's _freezing_. What were we thinking?"

 _Six! Cinq! Quatre!_

"I don't know," She shrugs. "I think we were thinking, when in Paris, do as."

He chuckles. "That's true. This might be a once in a lifetime opportunity."

 _Trois! Deux! Un!_

"Once in a lifetime?" Spencer exclaims. "We better come back."

"We'll come back," Toby agrees. "But on New Year's?"

"Point taken."

 _Bonne année_ _!_

"Happy New Year," Spencer grins.

Toby's heart is full to the brim as he brings her in for an embrace. "Happy New Year."

 _Auld Lang Syne_ begins to play throughout the speakers in the park and all around them, couples are kissing and hugging and welcoming in the brand new year. Above the Eiffel Tower, fireworks begin to explode in the sky, champagne toasts are brought around and streamers and confetti rain down all around them. The look of unparalleled awe in Spencer's eyes is one he rarely ever sees; for being such an amazing person, not much amazes her. He takes it as a sort of personal gain that he'd been able to elicit such a strong response. She grins and tells him she loves him, wrapping her arms around his neck and he repeats the sentiment, not sure if it'll ever be enough to fully express how much she means to him. Their lips meet once and twice and three times… and maybe they're not in such a rush to leave, after all.

The last of the fireworks burst forth in the sky, the confetti hits the snow and grows soggy and it's still absolutely freezing. The festivities have ended.

But for Toby and Spencer, the night is young, and their festivities have only just begun.


End file.
